Perpetual Motion
by LunaMax1214
Summary: Love is patient, love is kind. It is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Whoever said that was a rotten lying bastard. Love is a battlefield of the worst kind, where the rules change from one moment to the next.


_This is the beginning of what could prove to be a very long story. It came to me after reading a prompt on the Mass Kink meme back in January 2011, and for anyone who has ever read any of my other MK fills, you know it means one thing: All other writing ceased because this thing would NOT leave me alone. For the curious, the prompt can be found here (minus the spaces, parentheses, etc.): http:/ / mass effect kink (dot) livejournal (dot) com/585 (dot) html? thread = 988233#t988233_

_Many thanks go to a lot of people for this particular project, including but not limited to: SiaLater, Jillyfae, and Evil Sapphyre, for not only helping me beta this thing, but for being some pretty damn awesome cheerleaders; Moranth, for being a great sounding board; MariahGem, for being ANOTHER good sounding board; CiaWeth for kvetching over fanfiction in general into the wee hours of the morning (among other things); KGLaser for telling me that I'm not crazy for thinking outside the box; the folks at** The Character Room** for giving me a safe place to rant and scream and cry when my writing isn't going well; Dolphin824, for helping me when I'm stuck, and being the best husband a gal can ask for; and of course, the kindly anon who posted the prompt to the kink meme. Without you, I may never have conjured up this tale._

_If I left anyone out, please know it's nothing personal; my brain is just so full at the moment that bits of information are leaking out of my ears at an alarming rate._

_All that said, I hope you enjoy my humble offering of a chapter. Please let me know what you think. Comments, concerns, and constructive criticism are always welcome!_

_P.S.-Happy Birthday, MariahGem. I hope this helps make it a good one!_

**Chapter 1-All Hands**

Spirits, but he really didn't want to be here.

This place was chock full of bad memories for Garrus Vakarian, and while said memories were never really far from his thoughts on any normal day, he certainly didn't need the vivid reminder that was Aite's landscape prodding at his subconscious. But, as a Spectre, one's personal wants and needs often took a backseat to the needs of the galactic populace, and this was no exception.

The turian checked the sensors on the flight panel as he approached the remains of what had been Atlas Station, located just south of the planet's equator. He'd received word from a reliable source that slavers had set up operations in the old Cerberus stomping grounds that had housed Project Overlord. That entire mess still gave him the occasional nightmare, and not just because of what that horrible excuse for a sapient being Gavin Archer had done to his own brother in the name of science.

Vakarian shook his head to clear it, unwilling to let his emotions control his train of thought. Trying to focus on the possible atrocities taking place here in the present instead of the ones from the past, he brought his shuttle in for a landing outside the entrance to the old science facility. The landing was trickier than it would have been in previous years, as the distance from the bunker entrance to the cliff dropoff had decreased due to soil erosion. This left much less room for vehicle maneuvering than there had been before and a much smaller margin for error before one became a statistic. Somehow, he managed to land without incident and proceeded to power down the craft after setting his omnitool to scan for lifesigns.

There were the usual pings for indigenous life outside the facility, but none came from within. That could mean there was no one inside the bunker. . .or it could mean someone was hiding their presence very, very well. Garrus sat in the pilot's seat, mulling over his options for a moment, when his omnitool chirped at him for a different reason. Opening the holographic interface, he saw he had a message waiting for him, marked 'URGENT-PRIORITY LEVEL ONE.' Normally when on assignment, he would leave messages not directly related to his mission alone until after he'd completed the task at hand. However, the priority level, the location the message came from, and the name of the sender, had the potential to change his plans.

She was rather good at that, changing his plans for him. And it usually pissed him off.

As was typically the case, the mere sight of her name made his thoughts head down paths best left untouched. Also in typical fashion, his emotional side refused to listen to logic, and kept barreling down memory lane, anyway.

_Pounding on the door after it sealed shut behind her, he hunted frantically for any gap that might let him prize it open. He found none and, fingers trembling, he repeatedly attempted to hack the door, mind racing to anticipate the counter codes from the AI. It didn't matter that Tali had already tried, it didn't matter that the quarian was trying to calm him down. It didn't matter that he snarled at her, either help or leave him the fuck alone..._

Forcibly pulling his mind away from things that were a long time gone, Garrus once again looked at the unopened message blinking at him from the device on his wrist. He had two choices. He could ignore it and continue on his current mission as planned. . .or he could open the message and see what happened.

_She's on the same damn planet you are. No way you're going to leave that message alone._

Before he could change his mind, he tabbed to a different window, and began reading.

*/*/*/*/*

Commander Shepard stood in the open mouth of the Kodiak's cargo bay, staring at the landscape in shock and disbelief. Before her loomed a mountain that more resembled a lump of clay that had been smashed by a child's meddlesome hands than a point of geography. Once majestic and pristine (or so the images from the galactic planetary database had indicated), the mountainside was now a jumbled mess of snapped tree trunks, cracked boulders, and mud piled higher than her shuttle was tall.

Then there were the bits of metal poking up through the mud, debris from broken equipment and pieces of pre-fab hab-units. These were the only indicators hinting that Limbo Station had ever been there to begin with. Limbo wasn't its original name, of course. It was a salarian settlement, but like most things in the galactic community, every species found a word that most closely fit the definition of foreign names and used that to label the thing in question, instead. The word in salarian (which was virtually unpronounceable to anyone outside of doctorate-level linguistics) meant, "land of lost things," and someone who spoke English figured "limbo" fit.

Staring out over the disaster area in front of her, Mirari couldn't help but think that that particular someone must have been clairvoyant. She was certainly _losing_hope for a good outcome with every second she spent inspecting the site.

Silently taking note of what looked like solid ground and what didn't, the brunette carefully put a foot down on the dirt at the end of the ramp as her earpiece crackled to life on the left side of her head. "Commander, sensors indicate you've touched down at the LZ. How's it look down there?"

"Not so great, Joker."

"Like. . .morning-after-shore-leave not so great, or. . ."

"More like, 'dear merciful God, what happened here?' not so great."

"Jesus."

"Yeah, him, too."

"Hey, did you forget I'm the one who gets paid on a per-wisecrack basis? You're cutting into my earnings, here, Commander."

Mirari smiled softly, in spite of the situation, and rolled her eyes. Leave it to her pilot to fall right into line with the gallows humor. It was one of the reasons she kept him around, after all.

It would be the last time she smiled for a long while.

*/*/*/*/*

It took three hours to reach the coordinates listed in Shepard's message, and when Garrus made the final approach to the landing zone, he began to fully grasp the scope of the situation he'd been brought into.

He'd never seen a landslide before, nor its aftermath, so nothing in his experience prepared him for how eerily quiet things were when he eventually stepped off the shuttle. Even with seventy-five people rushing about and thousands of kilos of equipment running, there was. . .nothing. No breeze rustling through what was left of the trees, no wildlife making its presence known. Just the sound of orders being given, and the wet squelching of boots in the mud as those orders were acted upon.

He still didn't quite understand why Spectres were responding to a natural disaster, rather than letting whichever government body was responsible for the settlement handle it. At one point in the past, he would have known for certain that, if Shepard were involved, there had to be a good reason for such a course of action. Unfortunately, that blind trust was from a different time, a whole other life, even, and he took nothing for granted.

Especially where she was concerned.

Unsure of what he would need, Garrus left the bulk of his gear in the lockers behind the cockpit, opting to take only his sniper rifle, his sidearm, and his omnitool with him for the moment. He was already in armor, and he'd already stocked it with medigel ampules and a few other essentials when he'd embarked on his original mission. It wasn't as if he couldn't come back to retrieve anything he might need after being briefed. His ship wasn't going anywhere.

Powering down everything non-essential, he exited the shuttle through its tiny cargo hold, leaving the rear hatch open in case he needed to board again quickly. Looking around, he scanned the profile of every person he came across until his gaze fell upon the fall of shoulder-length black hair that was both familiar and alien to him all at once. Knowing there was no avoiding this reunion (a confrontation one part of him craved and another part dreaded), the turian carefully made his way around the perimeter of the make-shift command center to where Shepard stood.

Rather than flag her down immediately, Vakarian hung back to observe. She was studying something on her omnitool while tapping away at a laptop with her dominant hand, even as she was giving out orders to personnel as they passed by. His mind's eye transplanted her from the swampy terrain of northern Aite to the CIC of the _Normandy_, and he nearly laughed at how little things had changed.

Except, things had changed. Quite a bit, in fact, and there wasn't anything funny about it.

He must have made some sort of noise, because her head swiveled first to the right, then the left before her light brown eyes found him. For a long moment, there gazes locked, and for the second time in as many minutes, it felt like no time had passed and they'd never parted ways.

Falling back into old patterns due to a misguided fit of nostalgia was a very bad idea. One the turian Spectre didn't plan on falling prey to.

Her eyes swept back to the human male beside her, and the past gave way to the present once again. Shepard quickly finished giving her response to Engineer Donnely's report (something regarding scanning equipment from the engine room of the_ Normandy_) and dismissed the bearded man so he could continue his work. Then she turned to face the turian fully.

He spoke first. "Why does it not surprise me to find you at the center of a disaster, Shepard?" He'd been trying for levity, but from the look on her face, he figured it must have fallen flat. People had eaten bullets upon receiving that particular look, and he was silently thankful the shield generator in his armor stayed active at all times out of sheer force of habit.

Not that those shields would necessarily stop her if she chose to shoot him, but they'd at least slow her down.

Hopefully.

*/*/*/*/*

Even eight years after their first meeting, it seemed to Mirari that Garrus had perfected his ability to put his foot in his mouth rather than having outgrown it. That particular trait used to amuse her to no end. Now the feeling it evoked was more bittersweet than anything else.

Amazing how nearly three years of exceedingly rare, text-only contact with a former lover could change one's perspective.

When she'd first heard that dual-toned chuckle, she could scarcely believe her ears. Shepard had half expected to look around and see only empty space, rather than Vakarian's armored form partially obscured by a stack of supply crates. For a split second when she looked at him, all the intervening years apart had faded away, and the urge to run over and throw her arms around him had nearly overwhelmed her. Then he had opened his mouth, and saved her from that potentially embarrassing predicament with his sardonic tone.

Before she could open her mouth and make things worse, she was rescued from herself yet again, but this time by the intervention of Kelly Chambers.

"Commander, Ashley Williams and Kal'Reegar have both commed in for the video conference you requested. Joker's waiting for your go ahead to patch them through to your portable terminal." The yeoman seemed oblivious to the extra person present for the conversation, but Shepard knew better. For all her displays of ditziness, not a lot slipped the redhead's notice when it came to people.

That probably meant Shepard was going to get an earful from her later. Now, though, there were more urgent things to attend to. "Great timing. Now I only have to tell this story once. Kelly, let Joker know he can route the feed out here whenever he's ready."

"Of course, Commander." The yeoman gave a slight nod before she turned away, most likely to give Mirari some space while she prepared for the briefing. Turning back toward the terminal in question, Shepard wondered if it would be a long wait while Joker and EDI rerouted the feeds. Glancing over her shoulder at her silent companion, she hoped they'd manage it quickly, if only so she wouldn't have to try and make small talk with the turian.

She snorted at that thought. What was considered "small talk" between exes who used to work together, anyway? _'Hey, you're looking well, by the way, why'd you stop answering my personal messages? Oh, and your job promotion? __**YOU'RE FUCKING WELCOME.**__' _

Yeah, _that_would go over well.

Thankfully, there was a not entirely unexpected pop of static and that line of thought became moot. "Shepard, this better be. . .holy shit, is that _Vakarian _there with you? You really must need some backup if-"

"Nice to see you, too, Ash," Mirari said quickly as she gave her former chief a pointed look. "How are things aboard the_ Tennyson_these days?"

The other brunette laughed softly, "Way too quiet since Joker transferred back to the _Normandy_."

The commander felt a surge of amusement at the mention of the pilot. "I've noticed that your mission reports have been arriving on my desk in a timelier manner. I wonder if the two issues are related. . ."

"I have to do_ something_to keep myself occupied."

Before she could reply, Ashley's image moved to the left hand side of the screen, and a new voice joined the conversation. "Williams, you're a damn fine marine, but I really don't need to know what you do to entertain yourself when your boyfriend's away."

Without missing a beat, Williams deadpanned, "When I don't have anything to shoot at? Long, drawn out games of Scrabulous, mostly. Which reminds me, Reegar, you haven't taken your turn and it's been _four months."_

The male quarian's familiar black face mask finally materialized on screen as he said, "And I've told you a thousand times, I hate that game, and I don't have time for all this extranet social crap. Stop sending me FaceSpace invites!"

"All right, you two. That's enough." Normally, Mirari would have found this byplay funny, but given the current circumstances, it was past time to get things moving in the right direction. "Now that Kal'Reegar's here, we can begin." She paused to punch a few keys on her terminal, which brought up a few images and some text on a lumagel screen to her right.

"Yesterday, I received a message from Mordin Solus on behalf of the salarian Special Tasks Group, asking me to look into a research station on Aite that had gone dark." She put both her index fingers on either side of a particular image and moved them apart, to enlarge it. "As you can see from the holos they have on file, the station staff was studying the planet's northern hemisphere to see if it was viable for future colonization." Unlike the southern hemisphere, Aite's northern region wasn't prone to seismic activity, which brought the number of potential volcanic eruptions down significantly. "Allegedly, they found large deposits of platinum and eezo, which made their investors very happy, as it provides them with the ability to make the place profitable by setting up mining operations here. Additionally, they were able to make certain hard-to-grow crops thrive, which would give any potential colony a shot at self-sustainability." Finished with that image, she brushed it aside with a flick of her forefinger, and used the middle finger on her right hand to pull another image into the foreground. Widening it, she went on.

"As you can see from these images we took upon arriving dirtside four and a half Terran hours ago, we're pretty sure we know what prevented Genex Chemical from getting a signal through to the station." She paused again, eyes flicking to the list of scientists and researchers who were supposed to be there, but were currently unaccounted for. It reminded her of another such list from decades past, but before her mind could follow that path to things best left alone, Shepard pulled her gaze back to the video feed. As she prepared to speak again, though, the woman on screen put forth the obvious question.

"Why is the STG worried about a salarian science facility on a planet they technically have no jurisdiction over?"

"At the moment, that's unknown, as Mordin refused to go into detail over a FTL call. Even one on a secure channel."

"That's a bit unusual, even for Dr. Solus. Isn't it?" The quarian's tone was puzzled.

"Read my mind, Kal," Ashley remarked. "May not have worked with the guy much, but I know he's not usually big on withholding vital information."

"Any idea what caused the landslide?" That question came from behind her, and Mirari tried very hard not to visibly flinch, as she'd all but forgotten the turian was even present.

"Not yet, but every available tech from my crew is taking as many scans as possible, from every angle and with every piece of equipment they can think of that might extract something useful." All that was said over her shoulder.

"I've got a few techs on board who can probably help with that," Kal chimed in from the vid feed.

"I've got at least one you can put on that list, too," added Ashley.

_Trustworthy and eager. Glad to know I keep the right people around. _Before she could thank them, and continue going through the mission specs, Vakarian spoke up again.

"And what about survivors?" She might have been imagining it, but she could swear there was a sneer in his voice.

Still looking at her terminal screen, she said, "Officially, we're here to assist Mordin's team with retrieving whatever data we can concerning the scientists' work, even down to the smallest side project, and to discern what caused the landslide, if at all possible." Then, she turned to face Garrus for the first time since the briefing began, looked him square in the eye as she said, "However, if there is even the remotest possibility of getting anyone from the science team out alive, everyone is to jump on it as soon as such an opportunity presents itself. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

From the speakers on her laptop, she heard a duet of, "Damn straight, Commander." Garrus, on the other hand, just returned her gaze and narrowed his eyes in response.

She almost opened her mouth to demand just what the fuck his problem was, and why he was even there in the first place if he was just going to be an asshole, but Shepard bit it all back and swallowed it, along with a good bit of bile. No use getting into a pissing contest in front of the others. And yelling at him before she knew if he meant to offer his assistance would be cutting off her nose to spite her face. Things might not be "good" between her and the turian, but she was just mercenary enough to take whatever help she could get when the need arose. Turning back to the video feed, she said, "How long until you arrive?"

"The _Tennyson_is still three Terran hours out, at least. Even at FTL speeds," Williams admitted. Then she added, "But if Kal and his team need a lift, we can swing by, so long as it's on the way."

"That's awful sweet of you, Williams, but we're actually already here. Well, sort of."

Both women stared at him, (though from Shepard's perspective, it more looked like Ash was staring at _her_) each of their faces mirroring the quizzical look of the other. It was the turian who finally asked, "And you mean what by that, exactly?"

"Remember that geth drop ship Cerberus was studying a few years back? We finally got Legion to stop worrying his shiny metal ass over it by promising him we'd go see if there were any "survivors" left on board. Cerberus had cut all off-world communication avenues from the ship according to Shepard's report on the place, so there's no way to know if there's anything left in there, since they wouldn't have been able to transfer themselves out via a comm buoy or some other signal. So, that's where we are. The drop ship near the equator."

The quizzical looks didn't change, but Ashley was the first to respond. "Sounds like you've gotten kind of cozy with the geth here lately, Kal. Tali still letting you into the house, or is she making you sleep in the vehicle bay?"

Kal chuckled, "Nah, she still lets me in, though she did threaten to not link suits for a while. Lucky for me, she's the forgiving type, otherwise, that could have been a very. . .uncomfortable month. And when the creepy 'mobile platform' saves you from having your face blown off, the wife can't stay angry for too long."

"Oh, man. . .how much booze do I have to buy to hear _that _story?"

Shepard cut in before the conversation could derail for a second time. "How soon can you get here, Reegar?"

The man was quiet for a moment as he tapped at the interface of his omnitool. Then, "If we pack up right now, and use the ship instead of the shuttles. . .hour and a half, tops."

"Local, Terran, or galactic standard?"

"Terran. We were already speaking in that measurement of time, so I converted it beforehand."

"I'll take it." Mirari's mouth set into a grim line before she nodded at the screen, and said, "We'll begin full search and rescue operations when Kal'Reegar's team arrives. That means you'll be playing catch up when you finally get here, Ash. Sorry."

"What's the old Marine motto, Skipper? 'Marines don't plan; they improvise'?"

"Looks like we'll be putting that to the test in a few hours. Godspeed, people. Shepard out."

Both individuals on screen nodded, just before the feed was cut and the screen went black.

She stared at the blank screen for several minutes, processing what had been discussed, and trying to determine what to do with the 87 minutes remaining until Reegar's arrival when her attention was drawn to the individual still standing at her back.

"Why is a chemical engineering company backing a research station that seems to be focused on anything _but_chemical engineering?"

Shepard let out what she hoped was a silent sigh of relief at his words. _The 'get down to business' option on the old "dialogue menu." I can work with that. _"Unknown. I'm hoping we'll be able to find something in the station's computers that will give us that answer, among others." _Though I'd take a handful of living, breathing people to question over files, if I had the choice. Hell, I'll take a single survivor, if that's what I can get._She turned to him then, and asked, "Does this mean you're offering your support, here, Vakarian?"

"I'm already here. Seems like a waste of fuel to head back to the equator without even poking around first." With that, he crossed from the "door" to her makeshift desk, and began sifting through the information still displayed on the lumagel screens there.

_So that's how you got here so fast. But why are you here, really? _It wasn't until his head jerked sharply in her direction that she realized she'd spoken those words aloud. He looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable, before he replied, "Tracking slavers." Garrus turned his attention back to the screens in front of him as he went on, "Nothing particularly noteworthy. Yet. You'll get my full report when something noteworthy actually does come up."

_If it weren't for my position as Spectre-Commander, and the requirement that you file your reports with __**me**__, I'd probably never hear from you at all. _As soon as the thought surfaced, she pushed it away again. That forlorn, pathetic, pining sort of thinking wasn't appropriate while on assignment. Especially when people could be fighting for their very lives beneath kilos of dirt and debris less than half a kilometer away.

"Very well, then. Hopefully this operation will have a quick and satisfactory end, so you can get back to your own work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see what the rest of the crew has found before I lay out the gameplan." With that, she left the temp-shelter and headed toward the _Normandy._

_*/*/*/*/*_

As Mirari walked away, Garrus glanced over his shoulder to watch her progress until she disappeared from view. Once he was sure he was alone, he let out a long, heavy breath before turning back to the readouts in front of him.

He supposed that whole exchange could have gone better. It had been tense, terse, and a handful of other unpleasant adjectives that probably applied, but escaped him at that moment. Although, given there were no bullets currently lodged in his person, his fringe was still intact, and he still had all his limbs, he surmised things could have been much, _much_worse.

He ran through the whole meeting in his mind, and winced at how it had begun. _No verbal contact in nearly three years, and that was how you decided to start things off?_He hadn't meant to come off as critical as he had. Unfortunately, his tongue tended to have a mind of its own where Shepard was concerned.

He resisted the urge to groan at how lascivious that sounded even in his own head.

_'Won't have to worry about that sort of thing, now,'_ quipped a voice in the back of his mind. _'She's probably pretty angry with you.'_

_'Wasn't looking for that, anyway, so shut up,'_he told himself gruffly.

_'Sure you weren't. Don't think I didn't see where your mind wandered on the trip over here. . .'_

Wondering when his inner voice had become such a pain in the gizzard, the turian turned away from the holo displays at the sound of maneuvering thrusters in the distance. It was too soon for either Williams or Kal'Reegar to be here, but there were no cries of alarm, nor mustering of weapons. Given all that, there was only one other person who's presence was expected. With that in mind, he shut off the interface and headed across the muddy landscape to meet Mordin's ship.

*/*/*/*/*


End file.
